


novice; apostate

by londer



Category: A Crown of Candy - Fandom, Dimension 20
Genre: Campaign 05: A Crown of Candy, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Limon is first in line for the throne of Candia, Pregnancy, Religion, i said what i said
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/londer/pseuds/londer
Summary: "The Bulb's will must be done," King Jadain declares. "Will you not let us feast you, before you depart upon this holy quest?""No," Citrina says, because a feast will mean drinking and toasts. She needs to leave, and now."And how long do you intend to be gone?" Her mother asks."As long as the Bulb requires," Citrina says. Five, maybe six months, if her math is right. "But I will return to you. That much is certain."
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	novice; apostate

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline???? limon can be nearly thirty and still a squire idk who gives a fuck i'm a limon is citrina's secret bastard son truther
> 
> uhh based on a number of posts, the most recent ones that inspired this actual fic are [here](https://chungledownbi.tumblr.com/post/627746162837012480/i-said-a-couple-months-ago-how-i-had-a-sneaking) and here

"I'm leaving tonight," Citrina says. She kneels before her parents sitting upon their thrones, wearing a loose cotton candy robe and carrying only a small pack of provisions and necessities. "I have had a vision from the Bulb, may it shine bright upon all of us." 

_ Bulb help me _ , she pleads, prays, screams internally.  _ Bulb save me, forgive these new mortal sins. Hold them not against my place in your light. Let me stand in your sun forevermore. _

"Going where?" Her mother demands. "The Strongpits arrive in two day's time. You can't just  _ leave _ the castle." 

"The Bulb cares not about our politics. It will have me go north into the mountains on a spiritual quest. My horse is already saddled, I am only here to say goodbye." It is lucky she is kneeling, because long hours of devotion to the Bulb have given her much practice and it is easy to hide her nerves. No bouncing legs to give her haste away, Citrina kneels, pious and sure. Her heart roars in her chest. She stares down her father, a devout and true man.  _ Let me go. Let me go. Please. I've got to. _

"The Bulb's will must be done," King Jadain declares. "Will you not let us feast you, before you depart upon this holy quest?"

"No," Citrina says, because a feast will mean drinking and toasts. She needs to leave, and now. "No, it would not be right to make lavish upon such a blessing. I will make my good-byes and depart immediately." 

"And how long do you intend to be gone?" Her mother asks. She looks furious, purple in the face and drumming her fingers angrily on the armrest of her throne. 

"As long as the Bulb requires," Citrina says. Five, maybe six months, if her math is right. "But I will return to you. That much is certain." 

* * *

Rococoa is furious that she's leaving, as she intended to shunt all talk of marriage to the Strongpit heir onto Citrina. She hugs Citrina anyways and tussles her hair. Lazuli's writing love letters to Lady Caramelinda and is so focused on the task that she hardly notices when Citrina stops in the door to her study to say good-bye. That's alright, though, because sometimes when Lazuli looks at her Citrina is certain she sees all of Citrina's secrets. Sapphria and Amethar both cry and pretend not to as they hug her outside of the stables. 

Then she's ahorse and galloping steadily down the promenade out of Castle Candy. Not one single guard to bother her, and perhaps the Bulb has blessed this little mission of hers despite her deceits. It takes weeks to reach the foothills of the mountains. She cuts her hair and prays every night and slowly her stomach begins to properly protrude, swelling with the child growing within her. 

Cherry Downs is a small village, just outside of the reach of the Bulbian church but Citrina's certain that its light still shines here. There's a little monastery here that still practices the old ways, and she raps on their door at high noon, cradling her heavy belly. Here, Citrina is Rina Longhalls, the daughter of a somewhat well-to-do shopkeeper from Port Syrup who is trying to hide a terrible mis-step. They take her in, because hospitality is cardinal to the Sweetening Path, but the coin purse she offers them ensures her stay until her son is born and their silence after.She felt a certainty in her chest and in her prayers for the babe, and one of their midwives takes one look at her belly and declares it to be an absolute. 

Citrina works in their library under their master curator, which is lucky because she doesn't actually know how to do anything that would be useful here like farming or cooking. She studies their texts and makes notes on how the Sweetening Path diverges from Bulbian canon and where they intersect and the many places they are truly the same. Her Book of Leaves is filled with annotations and notes in the margins as she finds lines of scripture that overlap and parallel and weave together. It grows heavier in her hands, or perhaps she's just more tired from the weight of the baby. 

He's born on a crystal clear spring morning after nearly two days of labor. Limon Longhalls is a big baby, and she can just see the traces of his father's herbal hair and brilliant smile. Citrina cradles him close and does not think about the handsome Vegetanian viscount whose letters set her heart aflame, who met her nine months prior in a dark corner of the castle to make good on a courtship of words only to die a week later in a sickening carriage accident on his way back to Vegetania to persuade his father to pursue their match. She keeps such thoughts locked in a cupboard in her heart and sings softly and bounces Limon and plans for what's to be done for their futures. 

In the end, she does what is simplest: five weeks after his birth, she bundles him to her chest and sets. The journey home is much simpler: she rides to Castle Manylicks, says hello to her Uncle Joren and Aunt Spearia, and is promptly placed on a ship home with a proper escort. She found Limon in the woods, she says, I travelled with a pregnant woman for some time and she died upon the birthing-bed, but not before I swore to her to see her son safe and well-cared for. 

Her Book of Leaves, newly annotated, glows of its own accord even when she is not praying over it. She presents it to her parents and Primogen Lapin as a sign that her quest is completed, and makes arrangements for the baby she rescued out of her own goodwill to be raised by one of the families who works in the castle. They're well-paid for their work, and Limon grows steadily, at a distance, with the other castle children. People are already calling her Saint Citrina, for her kindness and the new Bulb-blessed book that none can lay hands upon and speak falsely. 

Except for her. She doesn't know why, cannot even begin to unpack the apostacy of it all. Her mother makes her swear upon the book, once its powers are proven, that Limon truly is some peasant's bastard that Citrina took in. The Strongpit marriage is looking to be a sure thing, and Pamelia can look at two similar skintones and six months out of contact and do simple addition. 

She swears it, and the book lets her. A week later, she performs her first miracle. Citrina mends the many shattered bones in Sir Theo's leg when an unruly meep throws him half across the castle courtyard. Her body is haloed in golden light as she lays her hands upon the warped and shattered skin, which knits gruesomely back into wholeness in full view of half the castle.

There's no more talk of marriages after that.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here](https://myclericalromance.tumblr.com)


End file.
